perfect poison
by helium lost
Summary: Their love is a twisted, dark thing, barbed wire that cuts into their flesh every time they kiss. FeiPhinxFei. 30 kisses challenge. [4⁄20: 25 up]
1. COMPLETE ⁄ look over here

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes: **Feitan x Phinx has always been my favorite pairing in Hunter x Hunter, and, seeing how I didn't finish the 30kisses LiveJournal challenge last time, I really want to finish it this time. :) And, you know, encouragement always helps ;D

**Theme:** #1: 1. look over here (こっち向いて)

**Date:** 8/10/2006

* * *

Smoke drifts up into the air in wispy tendrils as he taps the end of the cigarette, the silvery-gray dust floating down like feathers onto the concrete ground. He raises the cigarette to his lips again and takes in a deep drag, the end glowing a brilliant orange for a moment before he exhales the smoke through his nose, like the puffs of air from an angry bull's flaring nostrils.

He doesn't smoke very often: there isn't enough time. But now, he has nothing else to do, and he repeatedly brings the cigarette to his lips as he tips his head back, staring idly at the sky, pockmarked with stars.

∙

All that lights the room is a set of candles, sitting and melting in little tin containers, casting flickering shadows onto the walls. It's almost too dark for him to read, but he does it anyway. Besides, the books he reads are mostly pictures.

He hears the footsteps as Phinx enters the room, smelling of cigarette smoke. Feitan wrinkles his nose: he doesn't like it when Phinx smokes. And ever since Feitan snatched the cigarette from his lips and branded him on the chest with it, Phinx has learned to go outside whenever the urge strikes him.

"Welcome back," Feitan murmurs, turning the page, his eyes never leaving its glossy surface. Phinx nods and collapses into the chair beside him.

"It's a nice day outside," Phinx says, looking at Feitan. He wants Feitan to look at him, too; he hates talking to people who don't look at you as you're speaking. But Feitan's gaze remains fixed on the page. His smooth skin almost seems to glow in the warm candlelight, his features softened more than they already are, the feminine curves accented by the deep shadows.

It's moments like these that make him forget that Feitan is an accomplished torturer and serial killer.

"Mmm," Feitan replies, turning the page again. "You smell like shit, though."

"Pfft."

"It's disgusting."

Phinx has to laugh. "You've killed hundreds of people and tortured several hundred more without flinching, and here you are complaining about a little cigarette smoke."

Feitan's reply is to turn another page. Phinx smirks and leans in, swiftly pulling down Feitan's collar, lips coming closer to his, but Feitan turns his face so that Phinx's lips land on his cheek. Phinx draws away. Feitan looks at him, pulling his collar back up, his eyes cold and disdainful.

"...You smell like shit," he repeats, then lowers his eyes back to his book. Phinx sighs and casually leans back into the chair.

But his right hand, away from Feitan's view, squeezes tight around the carton of cigarettes, turning it into a pile of dust.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Feed a starving author: give concrit and other feedback :D Thanks for reading!


	2. empty ⁄ news, letter

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**Theme:** #2: news; letter (音沙汰)

**x x x x x**

_A placeholder._


	3. empty ⁄ jolt!

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**Theme:** #3: jolt! (ユル！)

**x x x x x**

_A placeholder._


	4. empty ⁄ our distance and that person

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**Theme:** #4: our distance and that person (キミとボクのキョリとアノコ)

**x x x x x**

_A placeholder._


	5. empty ⁄ “ano sa”

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**Theme:** #5: "ano sa" (「あのさ」)

**x x x x x**

_A placeholder._


	6. empty ⁄ the space bet dream & reality

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**Theme:** #6: the space between dream and reality (夢と現の間)

**x x x x x**

_A placeholder._


	7. empty ⁄ superstar

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**Theme:** #7: superstar (スーパースター)

**x x x x x**

_A placeholder._


	8. COMPLETE ⁄ our own world

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Meant to take place in the Greed Island arc. Enjoy :) I suppose this could be considered a prelude to #13: excessive chain, also.

**Theme:** #8: our own world (二人の世界)

**Date:** 7/3/2006

* * *

A fiery, crushing passion burns through his chest, squeezing until he feels as if he can breathe no more. From his left hand dangles the head of the last person foolish enough to cross their path when they are in that crimson frenzy, hands itching to sink themselves into living, breathing flesh.

His right hand cradles Phinx's neck, deepening the kiss between them, if it can even be called that—it is more of a mutual need to release those pent-up feelings, those waves and waves of lust that follow a kill, than a 'kiss'. Their lips grind harshly against each other, him biting at Phinx's lower lip enough to draw beads of red blood, and Phinx acquiescing wordlessly as he leans in, bringing himself level with Feitan.

The head's blood is dripping onto his feet, but he doesn't care; the blood hits the dirt with that tell-tale _pitter-patter_ sound as he brings his hand up. He releases his grip on the tangled, matted hair of the head, letting it drop to the ground with a gentle _thud_, the dirt sticking to the wet blood like ticks clinging to a dog's back. Feitan drags his nails down the side of Phinx's face, leaving long, but shallow scratches in their wake.

"Hey," breathes Feitan, parting only slightly from Phinx, "never leave me."

"What makes you say that?" murmurs Phinx, eyes half-lidded.

Feitan looks to the side, hesitation flickering, but only for a moment. "Just don't." And that vicious aura is back, surrounding him. "Or you'll have hell to pay."

Phinx laughs, softly. "We're living in our own world," he says, smiling. "Even if I left you, our world is small enough so that I'll just end up coming right back to you."

Feitan pauses, then touches his forehead to Phinx's. "Okay," he says softly, then leans in again for another kiss.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Somehow, I feel the ending could be better… Ah, I'll change it later. :)


	9. empty ⁄ dash

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**Theme:** #9: dash (ダッシュ)

**x x x x x**

_A placeholder._


	10. COMPLETE ⁄ 10

**perfect poison**  
. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** I can never remember when to use the past perfect versus just the normal past tense :( Also, there is pronoun ambiguity, but I couldn't figure out a way around it, sorry D:

This is slightly A/U in that it doesn't follow my usual idea of Feitan and Phinx meeting. And it's slightly—okay, kind of really—cruddy 'cause I haven't written Feitan and Phinx in a while, so I haven't had much inspiration D: I want to keep them as my 30 Kisses pairing, though, so I have to write something every two months.

But concrit is still greatly appreciated :D

**Theme:** #10: #10 (#10)

* * *

That day, he was victim number ten.

How long ago was it? Five years? Ten? Thinking back, the numbers blurred together and didn't matter anymore. All he could remember was the vivid scent of blood in the air, that penetrating iron smell, delicate yet terribly strong.

The oiled, black manacles—oiled less for maintenance than for letting his victims squirm and think that they had a chance of escaping the hellish prison, for letting his victims try to squeeze their hands out, only to fail miserably. The wooden board, strong but splintered, pricking their backs and leaving a vast map of dozens of points, each trickling a tiny stream of blood. The tray of sinister-looking instruments, many rusty from use and disuse, use and neglect.

(What day was it? Monday? Tuesday? Maybe it was the tenth day of the week. He could never remember.)

When he removed the black blindfold from his victim, he was surprised—and his heart had leapt a little, in a strange way—to see him nonchalantly staring back into his cold, golden eyes, a cocky smirk playing on his lips.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" his victim had whispered, eyes sparkling in the gloom.

A faint pink blush had tinged his cheeks, but he had taken care to conceal it quickly and reply with a smack to his face. And although the red mark lasted for hours afterward, his victim had only smirked, a soft chuckle slipping from between his lips.

"Lovely," he'd heard him murmur under his breath. He had furrowed his brow at this insolent victim of his—no trace of fear, no trace of preoccupation, or worry; nothing.

Hours later, disgusted with this cocky victim, he had unbound him from his shackles and shoved him outside, bruised and bloody, but with his life more or less intact.

Three days later, word trickled back to him that one of their number had been killed (he couldn't remember who it was; did it even matter?). And he spat on the ground, annoyance tainting his face when he met the new member—with a familiar, cocky smirk—of the Brigade a couple days later.

He crossed his arms, then uncrossed them and glared at the new member. Finally, after moments of tense silence, he muttered, "Why?"

The new member laughed—a warm laugh, warm and cruel. And again his heart had leapt. He cursed under his breath and wished that he could tear out his heart, just to stop it from turning against him like this. A slight frown crossed his face and he turned and began to walk away, shoulders tense. Something about this newcomer made him nervous—something about the way that he could manipulate him so easily with just a single provocative look.

A second later, however, he found that this newcomer had blocked his way and was smirking down at him, one hand gently tilting up his face so that they looked each other in the eyes.

"Why?" he whispered, and shivers ran down his spine. "To torture, and to be tortured, of course…"

Then, without warning, he leaned down and placed a soft, too-gentle kiss on his lips, and something within him died as he gave in and returned the kiss—but only for a second.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Feed a starving author and leave some feedback :) Constructive comments are also greatly appreciated (as well as lines of praise cough cough ;D). Thanks for reading!


	11. COMPLETE ⁄ gardenia

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** This is meant to take place during the Greed Island arc. Just imagine that Feitan and Phinx are hangin' around in some forest on Greed Island. XD

**Warnings:** Sex. That is all.

**Theme:** #11: gardenia (くちなしの花)

**Date:** 4/2/2007

* * *

The day would have been tolerable if not for the constant, nagging presence of all those goddamn _flowers_. 

Phinx sighed and ran a hand through his hair, which was sticking to his forehead with sweat. The sun was beating down on him relentlessly, and even Feitan, whose composure was normally more gathered and reserved, was beginning to show signs of weariness. He was tugging at his red collar, a slight grimace on his face, a frown drawing together his delicate eyebrows. Tiny beads of sweat were even beginning to dot his eyelashes; his cheeks were flushed rosy red, and Phinx couldn't help but think that he looked like one of those painted dolls that they had seen at the York New auctions.

Of course, the heat didn't really faze him—where he was from, after all, this heat was fairly common, fair weather, you might even say—but it was those _flowers_. Those damn flowers that were everywhere—dotting every tree, littering the ground with white petals, thickening the air with their heavy perfume. He blinked his eyes slowly, then shook his head.

Funny how a pair of accomplished murderers was falling victim to the power of a few flowers…

A low growl of frustration rose up from the back of Feitan's throat. Phinx grinned.

"Can't stand the heat?" he said slyly, masking his own exhaustion. Feitan rolled his eyes and turned his back to Phinx.

"Shut up," he said before pulling at his shirt, which was clinging to his skin. He tried to tug off the shirt by its sleeves, then furrowed his brow as it refused to come off. He sighed and let his arms down for a moment.

"Need help?" Phinx said, suddenly behind Feitan. He wrapped his arms around Feitan, who squirmed.

"Not now," he muttered. "It's too goddamn _hot_."

He tried to get out of Phinx's grasp, but Phinx only laughed and held him tighter. He leaned over and rested his chin on Feitan's shoulder.

"We're alone, you know," he whispered in Feitan's ear. Feitan shuddered as Phinx's cool breath brushed against his damp skin. Phinx chuckled and ran a hand down the side of Feitan's flushed cheek before reaching under his shirt and pulling it off, up and over Feitan's head. Feitan frowned and complied, lifting his arms. Phinx cast the shirt aside, letting it fall onto a fallen tree trunk. He let his hands run over Feitan's bare chest, then pinched his nipples. Feitan stiffened as Phinx laughed.

"I told you," Feitan hissed, "not now."

Phinx laughed and drew Feitan closer. "C'mon," he murmured. "A quick one."

Feitan vehemently shook his head, which only made Phinx laugh harder. Phinx lay down on the ground, a soft pillow of white petals, and pulled Feitan down with him. His hands traced a path up the rough bandages wound around Feitan's legs and then reached up higher. Feitan bit his lip, but did nothing to resist Phinx, who only smirked.

"A quick one, then?" he whispered in Feitan's ear as his hand began rubbing him in little circular movements. Feitan let a low moan slip out from between his lips and gave a small jerk of his head as a nod.

"_Really_ quick," he murmured, face flushing even more. Phinx laughed, then stood and quickly shrugged out of his clothing, leaving it in a heap on the ground before he stepped back over to Feitan. He fanned himself for a moment, enjoying the cool breeze against his wet skin, then sat and pulled Feitan into his lap. He planted a kiss on the curve of Feitan's ear before moving down, tracing his tongue against the curve of his neck, lapping in the salty sweat. Feitan gave out a slight moan of protest, and Phinx chuckled, pressing his lips against his smooth skin.

"You want me to go faster?" he whispered, and Feitan nodded. Phinx trailed a hand up his chest, then kissed his shoulder.

"I'll take my time," he said, grinning as Feitan squirmed against him. He laughed and roughly turned Feitan's face to his, catching his soft lips in his own. He parted Feitan's lips with his tongue and touched his mouth, savoring the sweet electricity that was coursing through his body. Without another word, he broke off the kiss, then forced Feitan to the ground, shoving his face into the overbearing white petals that carpeted the ground. He thrust himself into Feitan, who sputtered as the white petals wound their way into his mouth, filling it with the taste of the perfume that had blanketed itself over the clearing.

After a few moments of frenzied writhing intermingled with pants and guttural sounds, Phinx let out a low, throaty groan, then parted himself from Feitan and flopped down onto the ground, leaving Feitan to lie in a puddle of stickiness that was white as the gardenias that surrounded them. He flashed Feitan a lazy grin.

"Fast enough for you?" he murmured, reaching up to touch Feitan's face. Before he could blink, Feitan was on top of him, his lips pressed against his own. Feitan held down Phinx's arms so that they were raised above his head, then coaxed open Phinx's mouth and touched his tongue against Phinx's tongue. Feitan's hips were grinding gently against Phinx's own, eliciting moans from both of them.

"Again?" Phinx said, smirking as he broke away from the kiss. Feitan raised a single eyebrow, pouting.

"You don't like it?" he said, feigning hurt. Phinx grinned.

"Oh, no," he said, voice husky as he brought Feitan down onto him again. "Far from it."

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Blame it all on Amai… she keeps encouraging me. D: 

This collection is rapidly becoming a big pile of smut, it seems.

(Any objections:P)


	12. empty ⁄ in a good mood

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**Theme:** #12: in a good mood (ゴキゲン)

**x x x x x**

_A placeholder._


	13. COMPLETE ⁄ excessive chain

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Takes place in an alternate universe (or perhaps even a possible future for the course of _Hunter x Hunter_!), where Phinx has been killed by Kurapika.

Enjoy!

**Theme:** #13: excessive chain (余計な鎖)

**Date:** 7/1/2006

* * *

Eyes the color of molten amber, yet cold, devoid of any sort of emotion. Mouth set in a straight line, not even hinting at the slightest curve indicating a smile or a frown. Small, white hands, smooth, deceiving, like the hands of a child—

But they were the hands of a torturer, a killer.

These bitter hands with their fingers dripping of screaming memories touched themselves to the cold neck of the dead body, checking for a pulse, checking for the faintest sign of life. They insisted, pressing against the artery, searching—but coming up with nothing.

_There was no way… _

Those eyes fixed themselves upon the face of the body. The body's eyes were open, staring blankly up at the cracked ceiling; the fading lips were slightly parted, as if letting loose a small breath, maybe even a word or a whisper.

He straddled the body, continuing to stare down at those eyes that had once held life and humor, waiting. Of course, this was all just a grisly joke. The Ryodan members were virtually immortal—it would take something immense to kill a Ryodan member, not some thin chain from a teen hell-bent on the disappearing notion of justice, a teen who had signed his life away to the fickle mistress that was vengeance.

_Nev__ermind that he had already claimed Ubo and Paku… _

He jerked his head viciously, clearing the thoughts from his head. There was no way that he'd let some idiot teenager take Phinx. Raising his hand, he summoned all the strength he had and hit the body's _(Phinx, whispered a small voice in his head, but he silenced it swiftly) _face. He heard a sickening crack and knew that he had broken the body's neck, but still its eyes remained unblinking, unmoving—simply staring to the left as the vertabra protruded from beneath the paling skin.

"Get up, you piece of shit, get _up_," he hissed under his breath, leaning in closer—but there was no response.

"Goddammit!" He got up and kicked the limp body halfway across the room, where it lay, crumpled again into a heap. In a split second, he was over to the body again, seething with rage. Again he slugged the body's face, feeling the cheek bone shatter beneath his shaking fist.

He found himself breathing harder, breathing more quickly. He flung the body over so that it lay on its back once again, and again he straddled it, tearing open the shirt it wore, exposing bare, unmarred flesh, a pure, empty canvas. He dragged his fingernails down that chest, leaving five parallel gashes at least a foot long and half an inch deep each. The flesh gaped open, mirroring the lips on the face, but they didn't bleed—only remained open, like those glassy, dead eyes staring blankly up at him.

Of course, he'd seen his share of dead gazes, most worse than this—most of them were from faces too mutilated to be recognized as something more than a mass of bloody shreds of flesh dangling from a skull peering out from the carnage like some sort of twisted voyeur. Sometimes, the victim's eyeballs would be dangling out like sick lightbulbs; other times, the victim's mouth would be frozen into a howl of torment and anguish, screaming and pleading wordlessly to be released.

And he'd reveled in it.

But this—this subtle, tiny death—it unnerved him to no end. The placid look on the body's face—the fingers gently curled on both hands, relaxed—it was—it—terrified him—if that was even the word—no, he was never terrified; the Ryodan knew no fear…

But—Ubo had died and he had barely frowned, and the only thing he did for Paku's death was to light those candles. And the only feeling that he had ever felt after their deaths was regret—regret that they couldn't have been killed in a more honorable way, that they had to pay their lives to a nobody who _dared_ to challenge the Ryodan and cage them in a chain, that infuriating chain, coiling and binding itself around their hearts, writhing and telling them that it was either to give up their nen or die.

And he thought that _he_ was the master of torture.

There was something bubbling up from inside his depths, threatening to spill over at any moment as his erratic, ragged breathing quickened.

He was an idiot, there was no doubt about it. A reinforcement type, naïve and simple. There was nothing special about him. There was nothing special about his nen. There was nothing special about his looks, his personality, his intelligence.

But there was still _something_—that something that would elicit a smirk from him when he saw him aggravated, that something that would make him smile in return to his crooked, boyish smile. Something in the way that that simplicity fit into him so perfectly, melting into those crevices left unfilled by his lies and deceit.

_He heard the pages being turned, then a voice that declared plain and simply, "You're a sick and twisted bastard, you know that?" _

_His only response had been to look up from the weathered pages of another book and smirk._

"And you called _me_ a sick bastard," he muttered, idly scratching more and more at the chest, covering it in a myriad of paper-thin lines. "Who do you think you're fooling? If you don't get up now, I swear you'll have hell to go through."

He felt a swell within him, threatening to tear through him and burst free, the lurching within his chest. He clutched a hand to his chest, trying to quell the waves, to stop those overwhelming feelings. He narrowed his eyes and frowned as his heart seemed to beat faster and faster, as if panicking and throwing itself around in a cage; what _was_ this; he couldn't stand it—he clutched tighter and tighter, tearing through the thin fabric he wore and drawing blood from the crescent-shaped lakes of red dug by his fingernails; he felt it drip down his chest and land, _pitter-patter_, onto the chest of that _body_, spreading and filling into those paper-thin cuts like some sort of blooming disease.

"你停著" he hissed as the first of the tears spilled over, kissing the body's chest and mingling with the blood. "你看你干了什麼。 你傷著我了。 我流眼淚了。 我恨你… 我愛了你。 躺著干什麼﹖ 你是什麼樣的混蛋﹖"

He hit the body a final time in the chest, feeling a furious satisfaction as he heard the sternum and the ribs shatter, as he felt the masses of muscle and tissue explode from the impact. Standing up, he gave the body a final look as armor formed around him and the room filled with a blinding, white-hot light.

Moments later, fire trucks screamed down the street and unleashed torrent after torrent of water onto the burning building as a small figure clad in black walked calmly away, leaving behind the remains of the only person he could have ever called a friend.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Here's a translation of the passage with the Chinese:

_"Stop," he hissed as the first of the tears spilled over, kissing the body's chest and mingling with the blood. "Look at what you've done. You've hurt me. I'm crying. I hate you… I loved you. What're you doing, lying there? What kind of sick bastard are you?"_

Being that this was written in the span of roughly one and a half hours, and that I am 100 _sure _that there are inconsistencies and errors, any and all feedback is greatly appreciated. Thanks:)


	14. empty ⁄ radio–cassette player

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**Theme:** #14: radio-cassette player (ラジカセ)

**x x x x x**

_A placeholder._


	15. COMPLETE ⁄ perfect blue

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Hmm. Nothing to say, really. Just read and enjoy :)

**Theme:** #15: perfect blue (perfect blue)

**Date:** 7/3/2006

* * *

"You know," he said as he stared up at the endless expanse of blue sky, "it's on days like these when I remember the people I've tortured."

I rolled over and propped myself up on an elbow, pausing to pick a couple blades of withering grass off my jacket. "Yeah? And what's this all of a sudden?"

He sat up and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know." There were blades of grass stuck to his back. I reached up ever-so-slightly to pick those blades off, but decided not to. They made him look—oh—"endearing" wouldn't be quite right. More of "like a child" would probably match better. Can't say I'm very good with words; that would be Bonorenolf's area of expertise.

"Hmm," I said plainly, lying on my back again. A soft breeze passed by the hill looking over York Shin on which we were sitting. The breeze ruffled Feitan's hair; I watched him from behind as he sat so motionlessly and tranquilly.

"Do you remember the Owl? And the way his eyes were ridiculously huge and too big for his head?"

I rested my head on my open palms. "Yeah. Don't think I can forget him even if I tried."

He straddled me so quickly that I barely had enough time to blink. I scowled.

"The hell are you doing? Get off," I muttered. He only smiled, something I could see despite the fact that he had the lower half of his face covered.

"I had him in a head restraint," he said, grinning now, as he forcefully held down my head, reenacting the scene. "And then I took hold of his eyeballs—" He raised his hands, mercifully sparing my eyes. "—and _yanked_ them out—" He pulled at the air. "—and crushed them. He could probably still see me doing it; the nerves were still attached."

"Oh?" I said, unflinching. "And what did it sound like?"

He paused, lying on my chest, arms folded under his chin as he looked up at me with that little smile of his, eyes twinkling in that mischievous way that accompanied only blood, sweat, and tears. His knees rested on either side of me, his spine arched like a cat stretching. "The sound…" he murmured, tilting his head like an inquisitive bird, perfect eyebrows arched delicately. "It was like those carnival balloons popping. You know, the ones shaped like cartoon characters, with their smiling faces on them," he said after a moment. "And, come to think of it, the Owl's eyes aren't even that large. Probably was just his glasses."

"Hmm," I murmured in reply. He rolled off me, then lay closer to me than before, his back resting gently against my side, his _ten_ gentle. The silence resumed, unruffled. I watched as the white clouds drifted by lazily, as if without a care in the world—then again, what kind of clouds have cares, anyway? Rain clouds hell-bent on causing storms, maybe, but… I yawned as Feitan idly pulled up small clumps of grass with those hands of his, unmarred and feminine, white.

"Wonder what it's like to torture Danchou," he said after a while. I sat up abruptly and looked down at him.

"Why?"

He shrugged again as he turned onto his back and continued staring up at the sky. The shrug was partially obscured by the folds and ripples in the dark fabric that he was wearing. "Just to see his composure crack, I suppose. To see that calm exterior disappear."

I furrowed my brow, suddenly reminded of Hisoka. "I'll never understand you," I said, then thought to myself, _or any other transformation type, for that matter_.

He raised an eyebrow and looked up at me. "Maybe you're just too simple-minded."

I frowned. "Are you calling me stupid?"

He turned over onto his side again and casually twirled a lock of hair, back facing me. "Maybe." I could tell he was smirking. I rolled my eyes and turned him over with maybe a bit more force than I'd intended.

"Just 'cause I'm a reinforcement type doesn't mean I'm stupid, you know," I tried to say sternly as I caged him in with my body, pinning him down to the ground with my arms and legs, but his expression—one eyebrow raised, lips set in a provocative smirk—far from being cocky, it dissipated any notion of annoyance I felt.

"Yeah?" he said, laughter at the edge of his voice. "Then what's the thirty-second digit of pi?"

I mouthed his question, repeating it, my mind blank except for the thought of why in the world pie would have digits in the first place. Finally, I said in the most intelligent tone I could manage, "…What?"

He grinned.

"Thought so."

With that, he reached up and pulled me in close, pressing his lips against mine, gently pushing and drawing back until he found the perfect position.

_Well_, I thought as I closed my eyes, light-headed, _if this was what I got for being stupid, then maybe it wasn't so bad after all_….

* * *

**Author's Notes:** As usual, any feedback, constructive criticism, etc. is greatly appreciated. Seeing how I haven't written Phinx in a couple years, I feel my writing getting a little rusty… eh. ;


	16. empty ⁄ invincible, unrivaled

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**Theme:** #16: invincible; unrivaled (無敵)

**x x x x x**

_A placeholder._


	17. empty ⁄ kHz

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**Theme:** #17: kHz (kHz)

**x x x x x**

_A placeholder._


	18. COMPLETE ⁄ “say ahh…”

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes: **For three years, I've been trying to write this fic, but I was never able to be able to until today. By "this fic", I mean a torture scene between Feitan and the Owl; I had difficulty in the beginning trying to make it graphic enough, and I never attempted the challenge again until now, although I always thought about it. So, in short, I'm glad that I'm finally able to have written it, and if it disgusts you, then I know that my job is done ;D

**Warning:** There is blatant, graphic torture up ahead, so if you're not up to that kind of stuff, I'd suggest not continuing. That said, don't say I didn't warn you ;)

**Theme:** #18: "say ahh…." (「アーン？」)

**Date:** 8/13/2006

* * *

He looks at the Owl, who is blindfolded with a hopelessly opaque black cloth and hanging from the ceiling like a cut of meat, strung up with his arms above his head, shoulders out of their sockets, blood flowing in tiny rivulets from the empty, fleshy pads where his fingernails used to be. Cuts meander over his chest, and Feitan's eyes take in every one, savoring them.

It's not often that he gets to do this kind of torture for pleasure. He doesn't pull people off the streets for the purpose because their wills break too easily—a few minutes and he has them screaming for mercy, begging to be killed, as his skillful hands continue to mark cut after cut on them, wrench fingernail after fingernail from them. Hardened criminals, especially members of gangs and underground organizations, are the ones he _really_ enjoys—they're trained not to give information no matter what the circumstance, and they staunchly bare their bodies to him, knowing that he won't even get a whisper from them.

He's blindfolded the Owl not to cut him off from visual input and alienate him, but rather, to cover those annoying eyes of his, big and jutting out, as if two cue balls had been shoved into his eye sockets. Feitan idly licks the wounds on the Owl's chest, savoring the metallic taste of blood as it drips down his tongue and into his throat. He probes his tongue into the cut wounds, prying the inch-deep wound apart even further with his tongue, running it over the smooth muscle.

The Owl doesn't say a word. Feitan would have believed him dead if not for the fact that his body is shaking erratically, in time to his breathing, a melody that he'll play until he's dead.

He trails his tongue up the Owl's chest, noticing how smooth his skin is and how hairless it is. In truth, he doesn't _have_ to do this kind of torture—if the victim is obstinate enough and doesn't break after hours, _days_ even, all Feitan has to do is kill him and question the body. But he likes to torture them instead, seeing how questioning the body takes too much time and energy, and, well, it's just not _fun_ to have those bodies put up no resistance to him, their wills already gone.

"You can end this," Feitan whispers into the Owl's ears, trailing his fingers down the side of his chest and making him shiver noticeably. The offer is enticing, he's sure—four days have already passed with this kind of ongoing torment, first with the water, then with the fingernails, then with the shoulders… But the Owl's lips remain firmly pressed against each other, and he turns his head to the side as much as he can with the head restraint holding his head in a single gaze forward.

Feitan resists the urge to sigh and show the Owl any sign of fatigue on his behalf. He walks over to the dark, wooden table and picks up a curvy and round metal object from the tray, then goes back to the Owl.

"Say ahh…" he murmurs, amused, but, of course, the Owl doesn't comply. Feitan, smirking, raises himself to the Owl's face and, on impulse, presses his lips to the Owl's, tongue still lingering with the scent of blood prying the Owl's lips apart and entering, touching the Owl's tongue and exploring the rest of his mouth. He tastes the faint smell of cigarette smoke and grimaces slightly, right as the Owl brings his teeth down on his tongue.

Feitan, instead of crying out, groans with pleasure—a deep, throaty groan, almost animalistic—as he feels the blood oozing from his tongue. The Owl lets go when he feels the blood running into his mouth, and Feitan seizes the opportunity to shove the pear into the Owl's mouth and turn its key. Immediately, it severs into four parts and explodes outward, like a bird of prey suddenly unclenching its talons, and smoothly rips out from the flesh of his cheeks, the metal blades glittering in the candlelight as the blood drips from them and falls to the floor with a _pitter-patter_ sound.

He stands just breathing for a moment before he reaches up and rips off the blindfold, noticing how the Owl's eyes are dull now. Their eyes meet for a moment, his narrow golden ones with the Owl's wide black ones, before Feitan, in a single, swift movement, reaches up and yanks both eyeballs out, noticing how they try to swivel wildly, the optical nerve still attached and hanging loosely as the Owl, shocked, blinks and closes his eyelids onto the nerves.

Then, in another swift movement, Feitan crushes both of them in his hands, noticing how the jelly inside squeezes and oozes through his fingers. When he opens his hands again, he notices that the eyes aren't at all _that_ big, really.

The Owl is biting his lip so hard that it bleeds as he tries to contain his scream. Feitan smirks—he likes it when his victims try not to scream; he finds their struggle and heaving much finer and more erotic than mindless screaming that tears their throat apart and hurts his ears.

Feitan lets go of the eyeballs and lets them dangle from the Owl's face, like two crushed Christmas ornaments. He idly scratches at the Owl's chest with his left hand, then pulls from his belt with his right a blade with a ragged edge. He lightly stabs the Owl's stomach, then makes a few smooth cuts, the ragged edge of the blade pulling sinewy chunks of flesh as it breaks him open. Feitan pulls back the cover of flesh, as if he's opening a door, then gazes at what's inside: the Owl's stomach, and yards and yards of glistening, gray intestines.

Feitan pulls and tugs at the intestines, drawing them out foot by foot and stringing them up around him like tinsel, as the Owl writhes and convulses wildly, trying to brace himself from the pain, separate himself from it.

"Just let it all go," Feitan murmurs, panting with the hot desire that coils itself around his body at seeing the Owl buckle and strain, and the Owl gives in and screams and screams and _screams_. Feitan then goes back and jabs the knife into the Owl's stomach, letting the acid run over his skin and other organs, the blood spurting out and staining the floor red.

He then pulls up a chair and sits in it, propping his head up on one hand, as he watches the Owl die over the span of twenty minutes.

When the Owl is finally limp, his uneven breathing stopped, Feitan lets himself sigh a long sigh before closing in, hand glowing, to question the body.

* * *

Phinx is sitting in a chair in one of the other rooms, idly flipping through the newspaper, a lit cigarette in one hand, when Feitan walks in, bloodstained and flushed. Phinx looks up and gives him a casual wave.

"Yo."

Phinx barely has time to react before Feitan is on him, tearing off his jacket and touching the flesh of Phinx's chest, warm and covered with the shining white marks of scars healed over. Feitan snatches the cigarette from Phinx's hand and plants it on Phinx's chest, smelling with satisfaction the scent of burnt flesh as Phinx hisses between his teeth. Feitan then tosses aside the cigarette and presses his lips to Phinx's, gently biting at Phinx's lower lip as Phinx complies, letting him lead.

Phinx breaks off from the kiss a moment later, panting, a smirk on his face, newspaper lying crumpled on the floor. "_Frisky_ today, aren't we?" he says slyly, and Feitan pins him with his gaze.

"Shut up and get on with it already," Feitan breathes, his hips grinding against Phinx's urgently, and Phinx laughs, planting another kiss on Feitan's lips.

"Whatever you want," he whispers, and they kiss again; the kiss between them tastes like blood and cigarette smoke, but Feitan doesn't grimace at all.

* * *

** Author's Notes:** Feed a starving author and give feedback! Constructive criticism is her favorite :D


	19. empty ⁄ red

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**Theme:** #19: red (赤)

**x x x x x**

_A placeholder._


	20. empty ⁄ the road home

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**Theme:** #20: the road home (かえり道)

**x x x x x**

_A placeholder._


	21. empty ⁄ violence, pillage, extortion

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**Theme:** #21: violence; pillage/plunder; extortion (強奪)

**x x x x x**

_A placeholder._


	22. COMPLETE ⁄ cradle

**perfect poison**  
. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Inspired by a passage in an abnormal psychology textbook detailing the development of a man's masochism. The man had had to have a fractured bone set without anesthesia, so an attractive nurse held his head to her bosom and comforted him through the pain, making for a situation where he was in intense pain, yet experiencing pleasure, at the same time.

As always, any and all feedback, constructive criticism, etc. are greatly appreciated :)!

**Theme:** #22: cradle (揺り籠)

**Date:** 7/7/2006

* * *

"Hey, wonder what's at the top?"

The two boys stand at the base of the tower of garbage, shielding their eyes from the glare of the mid-day sun.

"…Does it even matter?" says the shorter of the two boys.

The taller laughs. "Nah, not really. But it'd be fun to get to the top, don't you think?"

The shorter boy lowers his gaze and shrugs, putting his hands in his pockets. "I don't really care." He turns and is about to walk away, but the other boy grabs his arm and pulls him back.

"Come on, Fei," he says, eyes sparkling. "It'll be fun."

Feitan sighs, then turns, tilting his head and looking at the other boy. "Yeah?" he says. "And if it's not?"

It is the other boy's turn to put his hands in his pockets and shrug. Then, he grins a crooked grin and echoes, "Does it even matter?"

Feitan smiles back. "Fine, fine."

Phinx claps a hand on Feitan's back, laughing again. "Yeah, there we go! C'mon, go."

Feitan raises an eyebrow. "What, Phinx, you're not going up?"

Phinx shakes his head 'no.' "I'm too big and heavy." _And afraid of heights,_ he thinks to himself. "You go instead and tell me what it's like."

Feitan narrows his eyes and says as he walks toward the tower, "I don't know why I always follow your stupid ideas."

He takes a hold of something jutting out from the pile, gets a footing, and begins scaling his way up to the top. The tower begins to sway as winds begin to pick up near the top. In moments, with Phinx cheering him on from below, he is at the top, sitting on some sort of box and swinging his legs over the side. He looks down and sees Phinx, a dot on the ground below.

Cupping his hands around his mouth, Phinx calls up to Feitan. "So what's it like?"

Feitan pauses, looking over to the city on the distant horizon, then shouts back, "I'm sitting on a pile of crap—can't say it's too great."

Phinx laughs heartily. "Yeah, I guess so! Well, it's too bad, I guess—come down when you're ready, eh?"

Feitan rolls his eyes. "Fun, my ass," he says, reaching down and finding holds. He begins climbing down, foot slipping a couple times before finding a stable footing.

"Oi, be careful!" Phinx shouts.

"Tch," Feitan says in return. "I _am_."

He makes his way down much more slowly than when he climbed up. The winds are even stronger now, making the tower sway ominously. Pieces of rubble begin to roll down the side of the tower as various objects within it creak.

Then, before Phinx can react, the edge that Feitan is gripping comes flying loose. For a moment, he appears to be defying gravity, dangling in the air, before dropping, back arched, like a droplet of water waiting to hit the ground, other pieces of rubble following in his wake.

Though watching him fall felt as if it lasts an hour—every moment of anticipation, waiting for the impact, horrified, yet, at the same time, feeling a guilty feeling of exhilaration with the suspense, the guilt of wanting to see that body hit, and, maybe even splatter—the true fall lasted maybe only a few seconds. Phinx hears a dull, sickening crack, then a yell.

Phinx runs up to Feitan's crumpled body, noticing how quiet he is as he lies there… Hurriedly, Phinx turns Feitan over, and Feitan yells again.

"Ow! Fuck, don't touch me!" Feitan says, groaning.

Phinx bites his lip, then asks, "What's hurt?"

"My arm," he says, then curses again. "Ahh… make it _stop_!"

Phinx glances at Feitan's arm, bent at an awkward angle, and again at Feitan's face, where beads of sweat are beginning to form, and where his face is contorted into an expression of agony. Phinx furrows his brow and frowns.

"For god's sake," mutters Feitan, breathing heavily, "will you _do_ something and stop just _being_ there, staring at me?"

Phinx hesitates, then gets up and says, "I'll get Machi—just—don't move, yeah?"

Feitan rolls his eyes. "As if I _can_?"

Phinx dashes off and weaves in and out of the twisted maze that is Meteor City, looking for that blue-haired, cold-eyed girl that is the closest thing their sorry excuse for a city can call a doctor.

"Machi!" he wheezes out when he rounds the corner to where she is, and she looks up from her needle and thread, face hinting ever-so-slightly at annoyance.

"What?" she replies, taking in Phinx, who has a hand clutched to his side.

"I-it's Feitan," he says. "Broke his arm, I think."

Machi sighs and stands up, smoothing out her threadbare but good clothing before fixing Phinx with an icy glare.

"You're annoying, you know that?" she says, but follows him nonetheless, grabbing her bag, to where Feitan lies, sprawled out, breathing shallowly, eyes unfocused. Machi kneels down next to him, inspecting him with a cold eye.

"Now," she begins, pulling things out of her bag, "this might hurt just a bit…"

Feitan hmphs, then says, "Just do it."

Machi nods and gently takes hold of his arm. Feitan winces as she lightly feels the break; Phinx comes closer and kneels next to Feitan, brushing a strand of hair out of his face.

"…Sorry," Phinx says quickly, a bit sheepishly.

Feitan stares at him, then makes a movement as if to shrug. "Whatever," he says, then winces again. "at least this isn't boring."

Phinx laughs nervously, and Machi glares at him.

"Don't be so loud," she says. "I need to concentrate."

Phinx nods, lips pressed tightly against each other. Machi begins to work with a certain precision—almost deathlike. She feels for the pieces of bone and shifts them around into the right position as he makes those sounds of discomfort, sometimes squeezing his eyes shut, sometimes biting his tongue. Phinx hesitantly reaches out to hold Feitan's uninjured hand, squeezing it reassuringly. As Machi puts the pieces of one bone back into place, Phinx brushes another strand of Feitan's hair out of his face, then strokes his cheek with the back of his hand, murmuring words of whatever cheap comfort he can offer.

Feitan shouts and curses as Machi moves the fragments of his other bone, trying to pull away, but Machi holds his upper arm in a vice-like grip, and Feitan stills himself, breathing heavily. Phinx reaches down and gives Feitan's hand another reassuring squeeze, those meaningless words still coming out from his mouth in a continuous stream. Feitan murmurs something.

"What's that?" Phinx says, leaning over. Feitan gropes out with his good hand, then grips Phinx's arm, sinking his nails in and dragging them down to his wrist, as if the action gives him some sort of release. Phinx cries out and presses his other hand to the wounds, trying to stop the stinging as Feitan looks up at him, eyes half-lidded, a slow, lazy smile spreading over his face.

"I said, 'Don't stop'," he hisses, blood under his fingernails, a malicious glint coming to his eyes as a slight blushes tinges his cheeks. Phinx looks puzzled for a moment, but then, realization hits him.

"Oh," he says, then resumes stroking Feitan's face a bit clumsily with his left hand, figuring that it _has_ been helping him get through the pain—or at least, a little bit.

But Feitan growls and says, "No, your _other_ hand."

Phinx hesitates, the stinging in his arm still rampant, but a quick glance over at Machi and Feitan's arm is all the encouragement he needs. He starts to stroke Feitan's cheek again, his hand trembling from the stinging. Blood starts to find its way down from the gashes and drip onto Feitan's cheek, sliding down to his lips, and Feitan smirks, a dazed look in his eyes as he absentmindedly sticks out his tongue and licks at the blood.

Phinx is only slightly aware of the change in his friend, but then Feitan's hand scrabbles out for Phinx's left hand, cradling it in a deceptively gentle way before squeezing it, tight, as he stares straight into Phinx's eyes, Feitan's eyes oddly cold and aware of what he's doing as he squeezes his hand until Phinx cries out.

Then, idly, Feitan begins to scratch at Phinx's left arm as blood from his right continues to drip onto his face, pooling up in the small basin where the edges of his eye socket is, then spilling over like bloody tears. Feitan smiles, running his nails down the length of Phinx's arm harder and harder as that rosy blush begins to spread more and darken, and Phinx tries to ignore the stinging pain, knowing that it's nothing compared to what Feitan is going through.

Moments later, Machi is done, tightly wrapping in the splints to hold the bone pieces together. She stands and dusts herself off, putting the rest of her materials back into her bag. She doesn't bother to help Feitan up (Phinx has already done so, anyway). She takes in Phinx's scratched arms and the blood on Feitan's face, but says nothing.

"…Thanks, Machi," Phinx says after a pause.

Machi nods. "Yeah, whatever. Feitan, you need to come see me every couple of days or so so I can check on your arm. And you guys owe me."

Phinx shrugs. "Whatever you need."

Machi smiles the tiniest amount.

"I'll remember that."

* * *

"God dammit," Phinx says, almost twenty years later. "I can't believe she actually _remembered_ it!"

Feitan snorts. "Machi never forgets anything. _Especially_ if it concerns her services."

"Yeah, but _this_ is a bit much…" Phinx says, glaring at the bag he holds as if that would make it turn into a less obscene shade of pink. "Hell, I don't even know what Machi and Shizu would _need_ half those things for… and paying it from my own wallet, just so I can be embarrassed further by the cashier, or else 'face her wrath'… ugh."

Feitan smirks, pausing before the dirt-floored alley between the two buildings. "But it was worth it," he says.

Phinx rolls his eyes. "_Was_ it?"

Feitan suddenly drags Phinx into the alley and pushes him up against the grimy wall, then shoves him down into an uncomfortable squat so that he and Phinx are level.

"I'd say so," Feitan breathes, then pulls up Phinx's sleeve and idly scratches at his arm, where there are already dozens and dozens of other shallow scratches, while gazing into Phinx's eyes. When he feels the skin break and sees the blood well up and Phinx wince, he smirks, and a faint blush unravels itself over his cheeks as his breathing becomes a little faster.

Then, he leans in, and, closing his eyes, kisses Phinx.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** See that little drop-down menu and the button down there…? Well, making a starving author happy and leave a (preferably detailed) review. Thanks!

And shoot, upon rereading this, I've found that I have a _lot_ of revision to do, especially with the flow of the story... that's what I get for hand-writing it fairly quickly ;


	23. empty ⁄ candy

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**Theme:** #23: candy (飴玉)

**x x x x x**

_A placeholder._


	24. COMPLETE ⁄ good night

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** I wanted an anonymous, difficult fight, so this is set in the Chimaera Ant arc. No spoilers; it's an alternate ending, anyway. :)

**Theme:** #24: good night (おやすみ)

* * *

They are caught in a desperate struggle, weaving in and out of stingers sharp enough to tear through flesh with a simple caress, weaving in and out of the forest of claws scuttling across the ground, leaving tiny cracks and imprints. Their jaws click as they lunge forward, tasting droplets of succulent blood that ooze from the scratches and wounds.

Phinx looks up, breathing heavily, one hand flat on the ground to support him as he squats and tries to catch his breath. It's no use—he's not as fast as Feitan, and his attacks are too slow for this sort of fast, close combat. Blood drips down his arms, coiling around his tired muscles, as a patch of blood blossoms on his shirt. At this rate… He takes in a deep breath, then stands again, watching as Feitan darts between the ants.

He is more on the defense than anything: he is trying to avoid their razor-sharp claws, disappearing just as their claws close on his shadow. There is blood dripping down the side of his face, and he is panting, concentrating only on living as more and more of the ants swarm in around him.

Feitan cries out as one of the ants takes a hold of his arm. Its jaws exert a gentle pressure that leaves a small cut in his flesh; then, it slowly tightens, savoring the tension between his flesh and its jaws, before slicing through cleanly. Feitan falls to the ground, clutching the bleeding stump of his arm, feeling the warm blood cascading through his fingers. He looks up, his gaze showing the first traces of fear that Phinx has ever seen in those brilliant, amber eyes, and he watches as the ant opens its mouth and eats his arm, the sound of bones crunching ringing through the chamber as his arm slowly disappears, the fingers peeking out from the ant's mouth before disappearing completely.

Phinx takes in a gulp of air, then darts in and pulls Feitan out of the fray, narrowly missing dozens of claws thundering down on their absence. He drags Feitan by his good arm, and they stumble over the uneven ground, resting behind a pillar for a moment as the sound of ants approaching continues ominously behind them.

Feitan is muttering beneath his breath, cursing the ants. Phinx opens his eyes, then opens them wider and sees that Feitan's _ten_ is dim and weak. Feitan looks at him, eyes glazed open, lips slightly parted as the blood pools up around him. Phinx's hand kisses the wound as it cups his arm and the blood pools into his palm and fills every line and pore.

Their desperation grows and multiplies as the sound of the approaching ants gets louder and closer. Phinx stands and touches his bloodied hand, then curls it into a fist. To see Feitan slumped into a heap, the last traces of his arrogance and fighting spirit ebbing away… He spits, then holds his shoulder as his arm slowly begins to wind itself in a wide circle.

Feitan is expressionless, watching; he whispers something too soft to hear amidst the ringing echoes of footsteps.

"Good night," Phinx says softly, and his fist collides with Feitan's face, making it explode into a million pieces of flesh that stick to the walls and drip down into the crumbling dirt, leaving behind brilliantly red trails of blood.

And, picking up his mutilated body, Phinx turns and lets the jaws descend upon him.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Feedback is greatly appreciated. :D


	25. COMPLETE ⁄ fence

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** I went for a softer, gentler feel to this one, since I feel that everything lately has been a string of smut. Hopefully it's not too short for you guys, eh?

**Theme:** #25: fence (フェンス)

* * *

There was, is, and always will be a fence between them, and he's not sure how he should feel about this.

"And this is where we part and go our separate ways," he says, a wry smile on his face, hand resting loosely in his pocket. "Good times, right? But there are things you need to do and things that I need to do."

The silence is his only reply.

He hesitates, then says softly, "I'll miss you."

His expression softens as the harsh light glinting off his yellow eyes seems to lessen—by just the slightest bit. He brushes a strand of hair out of his face and gives the slightest nod.

"Hell, I don't know if you care at all," he says, biting his lip and turning, taking a few steps. "Can't say that I've never been frustrated with you, but these past few months have been nice. Wish it could go on, but there's nothing much I can do. I got called to do something; so did you." He stopped. "I'll still think of you. If it even matters to you, that is."

And he's shocked to feel that small hand against his back. The slightest touch is enough, and, as he turns, he knows that he's gone over the fence—that, for a moment, there's a quiet little gate swinging open on its golden hinges. Before he knows it, their faces are close together, and he can feel his breath against his face.

"I'll miss you," he whispers again.

And the only reply he gets is the touch of his lips against his own, soft as a single, lost breeze.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Feedback is always greatly appreciated :)


	26. empty ⁄ if only I could make you mine

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**Theme:** #26: if only I could make you mine (ぼくのものになれば良いのに)

**x x x x x**

_A placeholder._


	27. COMPLETE ⁄ overflow

**perfect poison**  
. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** I gave up attempting to construct a plot out of this. It's just PWP, honestly, a bunch of little sex scenes; I wrote it at 1AM in a hotel in Florence after reading _In Cold Blood_ and going, "Hey, wouldn't it be great to write something about two gay mass-murderers—oh wait, I have Feitan and Phinx." So, yeah, enjoy.

**Warning:** Sex. Lots of it. It's not exactly graphic in that I don't describe every single thing that they do in excruciating detail, but... it's still sex, nonetheless.

**Dedicated to:** My partner in crime, Amai I wuv you! ; 3;

**Theme:** #27: overflow (零れる)

* * *

They had killed that afternoon, a bloody, messy murder that had no real motive other than the fact that they had had nothing else to do that day, and because Feitan had been itching to see something scream.

As they drove away from the murder scene, Feitan, with his bloodstained hands, unzipped Phinx's pants and worked him off, his small, thin fingers smoothly stroking him. Phinx bit his lip until it bled, trying to concentrate on driving. He pulled into the hotel's parking lot a minute later, rolled into the first open spot, then, closing his eyes, came into Feitan's hand.

Feitan regarded the white, sticky mess in his hand for a moment before reaching into the glove compartment, taking out a napkin, and wiping it off.

* * *

Their clothes had hardly hit the floor before Phinx picked Feitan up and tossed him onto the bed. In afterthought, he walked back over to the door and turned the lock, then deftly picked up his bloodstained black shirt as he walked back. He ripped a thin strip from it, then tied it tight around Feitan's head, covering his eyes. Feitan's lips were slightly parted, his breath coming out in erratic puffs.

The last thing he remembered before blacking out into a sea of pleasure was the felling of silky-soft hair tangled around his fingers and Feitan's warm, wet mouth engulfing him.

Phinx watched languidly as Feitan's head bobbed up and down, his tongue working him and sending needles of pleasure through his body. With a soft sigh, Phinx came into Feitan's mouth, groaning as he heard Feitan choke and sputter as he pulled his head back.

"Swallow," Phinx commanded softly.

Feitan smirked crookedly before spitting resolutely onto Phinx's stomach.

* * *

Pale rays of sunshine slanted into the room through the crooked slits of the wooden blinds. There was enough sunlight in the room for Feitan to read by, but not enough to fully illuminate the room. The bed beside him creaked as Phinx and his call-girl bounced on it.

"You like that, huh," Feitan heard Phinx growl, and the girl—what was her name again? Did she even tell him her name?—merely moaned and sighed in response, false tension lacing her fingers as she gripped at the bedsheets. Moments later, amidst muffled screams that sounded utterly and completely forced, she gripped at Phinx's muscled back as he groaned and finished.

They lay motionless for a moment, breathing heavily, before he parted from her and she sat up. Phinx lit a cigarette, then offered the girl one, who gladly accepted. A second passed before Phinx stood from the bed and took a couple steps, then collapsed onto the bed beside Feitan, still naked. Silver smoke uncurled itself before Feitan, who wrinkled his nose disapprovingly.

"Does that make you hot?" Phinx purred in Feitan's ear. Feitan ignored him and turned the page of his book. Phinx smirked, then, pausing only to tap a bit of ash from the end of his cigarette, sneaked his hand under the covers of the bed and reached toward Feitan, who slapped his hand away.

Phinx laughed. "A true-blue fag if I ever saw one."

Feitan scowled and turned another page with more force than usual, tearing the corner. Phinx sat up and cupped Feitan's chin in his firm grasp, turning Feitan's face toward him and leaning in for a kiss. Feitan growled under his breath and pushed Phinx's face away to the side, firmly placing his book between them. Phinx laughed again.

"What's wrong, _honey_?"

Feitan ignored him.

* * *

Phinx leaned in and kissed Feitan's gagged mouth, sucking on his lower lip as he bounced Feitan on him, his hands cupped around his small backside. His mouth moved lower, tracing the curve of Feitan's neck and nipping playfully at the flesh there.

"You don't have to be quiet, you know," he murmured into Feitan's ear, smirking. "I like it better when you're loud."

Feitan dug his nails into Phinx's back and let out a soft, choked cry, followed by muffled groans and sighs as he buried his face into Phinx's neck, black curtain of hair falling gently to graze his shoulder.

Phinx grinned and laughed. "You're like a little schoolgirl," he said, "having sex for the first time."

Feitan's only response was to dig his nails deeper into Phinx's back, drawing little ribbons of blood, before coming onto his chest.

* * *

Phinx grinned up at Feitan from his position—kneeling on the floor—and was greeted with the sight of Feitan with his head thrown back in total abandon, thin but powerful arms supporting his almost childlike body. Phinx chuckled as his hand idly stroked Feitan's length, eliciting another sigh from his parted lips.

"You chinks," he remarked, "are so damn _tiny_."

Feitan reached forward and pulled Phinx hair, tousling it as he brought his head back up to glare down at him.

"Just shut up and get on with it," he hissed, pulling Phinx's head closer to him. Phinx smiled sardonically.

"Yes, _sweetie_," he said before taking Feitan in. He was rougher than Feitan and more coarse, letting his teeth come down and scrape by every now and then, but that seemed to please Feitan, whose breaths came out in strangled half-sighs, half-gasps. Finally, face flushing red, he came into Phinx's mouth. Phinx smiled and climbed up onto the bed, pinning Feitan beneath him. He let the load drip off his tongue onto Feitan's face.

"You like that, don't you?" Phinx said, grinning. Feitan frowned, squinting as the semen began to drip down toward his eyes, and swiftly punched Phinx in the shoulder, dislocating it. Phinx winced, but the grin was still on his face as he sat back and smoothly guided his arm back into the shoulder joint.

"Jesus, do you always have to be so violent?" he said, laughing. Feitan reached up and dragged a hand down Phinx's smooth chest, leaving behind three vivid, red trails. Phinx let out a soft moan.

"Only if you always have to be so stupid," Feitan replied, and smirked.

* * *

A flush unfurled itself across Phinx's cheeks as Feitan looked up at him, golden eyes narrow and half-lidded as the semen dripped past his cherry-red lips.

As Phinx looked at him, Feitan raised an eyebrow and swallowed in a single smooth movement, then let his tongue dart out and lick the last of the drops off his lips.

"Fuck," Phinx muttered, flushing again as he came into Feitan's eye. Feitan frowned and stood, spitefully reaching out to grip Phinx around the neck and bang his head against the headboard—not enough to injure or knock him out, but enough to hurt—and walked over to the bathroom. He turned on the water and began to wash the cum off his face as Phinx laughed.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** First time I've written sex scenes, so uh, any awkwardness should be pointed out. Constructive criticism is always appreciated, as well as any other kind of feedback :D Thanks for reading!


	28. empty ⁄ Wada Calcium CD3

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**Theme:** #28: Wada Calcium CD3 (ワダカルシウムCD3)

**x x x x x**

_A placeholder._


	29. empty ⁄ the sound of waves

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**Theme:** #29: the sound of waves (波音)

**x x x x x**

_A placeholder._


	30. empty ⁄ kiss

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**Theme:** #30: kiss (キス)

**x x x x x**

_A placeholder._


	31. UPDATES ⁄ 25 is up

**perfect poison  
**. helium lost .

**Author's Notes:** Please do **_not_** review placeholder chapters; leave all reviews in their proper place, otherwise you can't review even if you wanted to when these are replaced by actual content! Thanks.

**This chapter serves as a chapter just to let people know that I have an update. **That is all. :)

**4/20/2007:** #25: "fence" is up.


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